Frosted Moonflowers
by Krystyal
Summary: Alone. Outward appearance and origin seperate her, but forward she presses, a ripple upon a frozen lake.
1. Chapter 1

**Hiya ^^ this is my second fan fiction. Although the jump from Special A to Dragon Age: Origins was kinda a big one I know ^^; I'm really just going to write out how I would have liked my character to act in different situations as I am playing the game. So I guess its more a collection of drabbles I think?.? Hehe ah well, time to enjoy writing again ^^**

**I apologize for any out of character that will probably occur . please let me know and I'll try my best to fix it. The game's writers did an amazing job with the dialogue as well as the voice actors delivery of it. I think it should earn some of those awards actors get, its on the same level I think ^^**

**Spelling and grammar have never been a strong point for me, those who know me understand why.**

**Disclaimer(applies to this entire story from here on out) I don't own Dragon Age: Origins. I do not profit in any way from this work of fan fiction, I just wanted to get the buzzing story out of my head ^^a**

**Chapter 1: Origin**

**I couldn't believe it. I have been called for the Harrowing. I'm absolutely terrified. I busy my hands twisting the rope belt I wear. All apprentices know of the Harrowing, the rite of passage to become a "Mage" in our world of Ferelden. My mind wanders back as I glance around the Circle Tower that has been my home for all my life, or near it anyways.**

**I could only faintly remember before the tower. Cold. Dark. Hungry. Those words generally defined the whispers of the past. Although one stood out above all the others, the one that has remained absolute to this day.**

**Alone.**

**I have always been so. I was born in the Elven Alienage of Denerim, not an uncommon lot in life for an elf, but my birth cost my mother's life. Life for the elves was hard and bitter, clinging to the vestiges of life, for no other reason but to simply keep living. My Father lost what little will to live he had after my mother passed, and fell to a sickness within my first year. If not for the kindness of the orphanage I wouldn't have lived at all. Several memories stood out in the whirling ink of my past, like floating mirrors on the surface.**

**Orphans, I've heard, often stick together as their pains are the same; but even there I was alone. For I possessed two things that no child should have had, especially an elven one.**

**The first was magic.**

**No one knows how one becomes attuned to the Fade in order to weave and move magic. Being born with the curse or blessing of magic tends to hide its origin. Be it either of the former, I had it. For that the other children feared and shunned me.**

**Had it not been for the Matron I doubt I would have found my own will to live at all. Although she had nothing herself, she somehow made the children of the orphanage's life bearable, and actually pleasant at times. I remember her wrinkled smiling face well, along with her long flowing hair. My hand gently strokes my own long silver hair as I think about her, it lays past my hips now. She was my only attachment to the world, although she was only a single person, and had many to care for. But I thank her still.**

**The second were the markings that appeared upon my skin and the color of my skin itself. I remember overhearing Cullen, a Templar of the Circle Tower, comparing me to a frosted moonflower. Pale and frozen. Small twin wave markings start from just in front of my pointed ears, and come to the center of my cheeks. They are faint but the sky blue stands out against my pale complexion. My lips and eyes are the same frozen sky blue in slightly brighter tone. I have been mistaken for blind many times as my eyes possess no pupil.**

**I know not why I have markings as I do, other mages do not, but I can not change them. I refer to magic as a blessing and a curse because it is both without being either. It curses those who have it to being prisoners and outcasts. Locked away in the Circle Tower under watchful eyes of the Templar.**

**But I call it a blessing because it saved me from that small, dying existence in the orphanage. I remember being bitterly cold and hungry in the winter of my fourth year. My blanket taken by the others, my food stolen by an equally hungry but more ferocious dog. The clouds didn't even let the sun through as I wandered into the Market area. The guard too cold himself to be paying attention to the shadow of a child that passed him by.**

**As I shivered next to the dim heat of a store owners tent. I suddenly felt something. As if I was being drawn ever so slightly. When I looked in the direction I beheld an amazing sight. A robed man entertaining equally warmly bundled human children as he waited for something the store owner was rummaging about for. He held in his hand a living flame.**

**It danced at his beckoning with his other hand. Twisting, whirling, weaving an intricate dance. I dared not blink least I miss something of this act. The man continued to play with the fire until the store owner returned. The man quipped his hand and the fire flared one last time into the shape of a bird beating its wings toward the sky.**

**The other children awed as the show ended, pleading for more; but the man only shook his head with a smile and bade them farewell. I myself shared deeply in the children's disappointment. I looked down at my own bony hands. I imagined my own flame glowing faintly in it, just enough to ward off the chill a bit more, nothing in comparison to that man's. I just wanted a little more warmth, and suddenly it was there! I remember smiling as I cradled the small flame to myself. But then exhaustion overcame me. The last thing I heard was a woman's voice.**

"**Irving? What are you looking at?"**

**When I awoke next I was in this same bed I sit in now. An apprentice of the Circle Tower, and a prisoner at the same time. Although I am a user of magic I am still an outcast within these walls. I am an elf to the humans, looked down upon as a lesser being, and a freak to the few elvan because of my markings. So I delved into my studies to occupy my time. At the very least, cold and hunger couldn't find me any longer. For thirteen years studying magic and its uses was my life.**

**My trip down memories twisting paths was interrupted as Jowan approached me. Jowan was one of the few people that had looked past my differences and become a comrade to me, even somewhat a friend in the past year. I at least trusted him not too see me as 'just an elf' anyways.**

"**Its time." A tinge of jealousy is in his voice. "The First Enchanter is waiting, we should go." I feel bad for him as I take a deep breath and follow him. He had been in the tower longer then I and yet he had not received his own calling for the Harrowing. We walked in silence through the halls and stairs. Jowan was not a tall man, but I was dwarfed even by him, like all elves I stood at least a head and half shorter then the average human. It was a boon in disguise, although my skill with magic was greater then those I trained with, the Templars took less notice of me because of my lithe stature.**

**As we continued down the hall, the First Enchanter came into view at the base of the stairs to the floor above.**

"**Ah it is good of you to arrive so promptly." he smiled down to me.**

"**True." Jowan smirked, "I'd imagine Knight-Commander Greagoir would become well.." he paused a moment as he checked to see if the mentioned was in earshot. "even more unpleasant then he always is." **

**Even First Enchanter Irving couldn't stop his own snicker. "He does take his duties seriously. Thank you for escorting Ilxaon. You may go now Jowan." With a small nod to Irving and myself, Jowan departed as noise of Templars heavy armor came from the doors the stairs lead to. "Worry not child," Irving smiled gently, "The Harrowing is a trial indeed, but I believe you will succeed." How this grandfatherly man also maintained his very deep power of magic, his sense of care for all the mages in the tower, and occasionally prodding of the Templar I could never figure out**

**But I guess that's what made him such a good mentor.**

"**Come." Irving gently placed a hand on my shoulder. "Let us continue to the chamber." We walked quickly through the next few rooms, giving not time for the Templars there to become interested in the passing of a mage and his apprentice. We quickly passed through the doors held open in front of us and entered the Harrowing Chamber.**

**Never being allowed here before my eyes darted around the room to satiate the curiosity I had developed in my studies. I was dimly aware of Greagoir speaking, but I had long since learned to tune out the unneeded veiled threats about mages and danger that the Templars were consistently spouting. I didn't really listen again till Irving began speaking.**

**His words, although veiled, were a clear warning of the immense danger I was being put into with the Templar guards barely being the wiser. My eyes fell on Templar Cullen as Irving explained what the Harrowing truly was.**

"**You will be going directly into the Fade to face a demon we've baited." Irving spoke softly. My heart skipped a beat at that sentence, never before I had been so glad to keep my bangs so far forward. I used it to hide the markings on my face somewhat, but this time it helped hide the shock I'm sure was plastered upon it. Barely allowed to practice actual magic and the Harrowing is being sent directly into the Fade itself? The source of magic and demon alike? "Remember that while in the Fade, it is will and thought that are what is real." Greagoir admonished Irving for attempting to not let me do the Harrowing on my own. **

**Irving's eyes became sad as he looked back at me. "Touch that Lyrium to begin the Harrowing. Defeat the demon and return. If you fail, Cullen will see to you." I noticed Cullen swallow suddenly at that mention. I could only nod at Irving and give him a small smile before I stepped forward. I could feel the sheer energy course through me as I approached the small stone saucer. I gently lowered my hand into the glowing white pool. **

**Pain and pull was all I felt before my body slumped into Cullen's waiting hands. Cullen lowered the limp girl's body to the floor before drawing his sword and holding it at the ready. "Cullen!" Greagoir barked, "Remove the hesitation from your blade! If she fails she will become an abomination intent on only killing us all!" Cullen nodded sharply and the small tremor disappeared from his blade. **

**Irving knelt beside his apprentice and gently arranged her hands limbs into a more comfortable position. "You need not worry so much." Irving spoke as he replaced one of Ilxaon's stray hair braids back behind her ear. "She will not succumb to the demon's tricks." Greagoir gave an almost unperceivable nod at Irving's confidence. He'd never admit it to anyone, but he too hoped this small girl returned unharmed.**

**A sense of falling without falling, of being drawn without being pulled, all sense of direction gone, all sense of self gone. Ilxaon existed momentarily as nothing, before awakening into a realm of dreams, demons, and spirits. The Fade welcomed Ilxaon into its embrace. **

**An entity smiled as it watched the form of its newest prey collect. An elf? Hmm. It had been awhile since the entity had tasted that particular quality of soul. Although their taste had become much more like a human's, it still held a certain.. Ancient spice that the entity preferred. This was a good day indeed for a fresh meal. The entity smirked to itself before scowling. Several other inhabitants of the Fade also arrived in this Fadescape. One familiar, two not. The two unfamiliar were very powerful. The entity would have to be careful not to reveal itself too early this time. This elf was in for an interesting time indeed. **

"**Let the game begin." The entity chuckled darkly to itself.**

**Frozen sky blue eyes opened slowly, squinting shut as the light blinded them.**

"**Oh good you're awake!" a voice called out, much too loud in the hearer's opinion. "Come on, slowly try to sit up. You've been out for nearly an entire day."**

"**Jowan?" Ilxaon sat up slowly as her body remembered that it actually did in fact have a real body.**

"**Its good you recognize me." Jowan nodded slightly. The rumbling of armor departing perked Ilxaon's ear but she ignored it. Jowan leaned down close to the still slightly frazzled girl. "So what happened up there exactly?"**

**Unbidden images of a mouse, Valor's knight, the laziest bear, and rage given form flashed through her mind. Even in her current state she knew better then to reveal that information. "You know I can't speak of it Jowan." A final image of a menacing reminder breathed past her ear. **

'**A true test, never, ends.' Ilxaon could only shudder at the implications. Jowan acted hurt about their friendship not being what he thought it was before he came to the true point of his visit.**

"**Irving wishes too see you in his study." Jowan turned to leave but paused a moment, as if in an argument with himself. "We'll talk later." then departed.**

**Ilxaon staggered slightly as she stood, the last vestiges of her Fade experience passing. As she made her way through the tower she only grinned slightly at the gossip and whispers about her. At least they weren't about her appearance this time.**

'**One of the quickest Harrowings' 'Smoothest to date said Cullen.' 'Of course he'd say that!'**

**A small amount of joy filled her step as she crossed through the halls. She was now one of the Harrowed! She could stop practicing magic under the covers of her bed or under restricted conditions with tutors! By time she entered Irving's study she was practically skipping. Her mirth faded when she heard Greagoir's tense voice.**

"**We too must do our part against this invasion Greagoir." Irving's voice calmly answered. Ilxaon stepped inside the room a foot or two, the door was not closed so Irving did not deem the conversation private. He could seal it with a mere wave of his hand after all. Two familiar men stood within as well as a heavily armed third whom she did not recognize. Irving noticed her entry, "We'll speak of this again later Greagoir."**

**Looking about to retort till he himself noticed Ilxaon's presence. Greagoir excused himself. As he passed the new mage his gauntleted hand quickly covered her shoulder and gave a small squeeze. The barest of smiles ghosted across his face as she looked up to him with a smile of her own. Then his bright countenance was gone as quick as it had come then so was he.**

**Ilxaon was aware of the door closing behind Greagoir as she turned back to Irving. "You sent for me First Enchanter?" bowing slightly. Protocol was not significant between them, save for when strangers were present. **

"**I did indeed child." Ilxaon relaxed a bit, evidently the dark-haired man was someone that Irving trusted. "This is my old friend Duncan. This is she I spoke of, Ilxaon." She bowed again to the now named Duncan. For some reason the gaze of both men unnerved her somewhat. Duncan more so, some air surrounded him that was neither mortal or of the Fade that she could tell.**

"**The First Enchanter speaks highly of you." Duncan began, a rough but gentle voice greeted her ears, betraying his outward countenance. "It is a pleasure to meet you Ilxaon. And congratulations are in order I hear, for your successful Harrowing." **

"**She did splendidly." Irving praised her as she blushed slightly from the way pride shown from the old man's eyes. "I now give you all the rights and privileges of a Mage of the Circle." He handed her a box from which the rustling of cloth could be heard. "Now do you have any questions?" Ever the mentor.**

**A dozen questions sprang to mind, but Ilxaon settled on one. "What were you discussing with Greagoir about? I haven't heard you two argue like that since Zera enchanted that broom to 'clean up' after the Templars."**

**A chuckle and grin escaped Irving. Duncan only raised his eyebrow and smirked as his imagination created ideas to exactly what that broom was doing. "Speaking plainly as ever my child. In short, fear. In length, the Darkspawn have formed a horde to the south." Ilxaon's elongated eyes widened at that. "This is why Duncan is here, to try and enlist the aid of more mages against it, Greagoir feels it is unwarranted though to release mages from this tower, no matter the cause."**

**Duncan voiced his opinion at this. "Even against the King's request it seems." Dissatisfaction evident in his voice. "Mages are needed to counter the magic of the Darkspawn. The seven we were sent just aren't enough."**

"**I know it too my friend." Irving agreed. "But Greagoir ultimately holds the key to the door as it were." A smirked appeared on his face. "Although you could invoke the Right of Conscription as any Grey Warden may."**

**This fully caught Ilxaon's attention. This man was a Grey Warden?! Legends and stories abound about their power and unstoppable courage in the face of the Blights. It was commonly accepted that the Wardens were no longer mere men, they were something more. Whether heroes or death bringers depended on the storyteller.**

"**You're a Grey Warden?!" Her mouth betrayed her by not letting her brain control it.**

**Amusement filled Duncan's face. "That I am. Am I what you were expecting?" Gaping like a fish was probably not the best response as the Warden chuckled.**

"**As much as I enjoy teasing my dear apprentices." Irving's state brought Ilxaon out of her stupor, sticking her tongue out slightly at the First Enchanter for his antics. "I do have work that must be attended to. I would have you see Duncan to the first guest room."**

"**As you command, master." Smirking sarcasm was Ilxaon's answer. The trio all chuckled before the pair left Irving to his device. Just before she disappeared through the door Ilxaon turned back to Irving. "Thank you Flameweaver." she called softly before closing the door behind herself and Duncan.**

**Irving froze as he heard those words. A broad smile spread across his face. She hadn't called him by that name since she officially began studying as his apprentice. The smile faded as his thoughts turned to why Duncan was really in the Tower. "Fate indeed will lead you to through such terrible trials." He wiped away the tear that had formed in his eye.**

**Duncan and Ilxaon chatted as they walked through the tower's hall. Ilxaon's curiosity of the outside world as well as the Grey Wardens themselves left Duncan feeling refreshed and even more certain about Irving's advice. Although she had no battle experience, or even life experience it seemed, her minds abilities were well beyond her years. They were approaching the guest room when a shaky voice called out.**

"**B-beg pardon Il-Ilxaon."**

**She turned to the voice. "Hello again Cullen." A shadowy form of him holding a sword over her flitted across her vision. She quickly dismissed it as nothing had come of it.**

"**C-c-congratulations on passing the H-Harrowing." Cullen stuttered obviously nervous beyond belief. Duncan could only smirk as he casually took a step back from this boy's obvious infatuation with the girl. A Templar eyeing an elvan mage, somewhere irony was falling down some stairs in laughter. "I- uh, am g-glad you m-made it."**

"**Thank you Cullen." Ilxaon answered calmly. "Why are you stuttering though?" Duncan did a double take between the girl and the young man. Did she not really understand why he was stuttering?**

"**O-oh!" becoming even more flustered, "I'm n-not." Deep breath, "Stuttering. I'm just happy to speak with you."**

"**Its nice to be able to speak with you as well Cullen." Ilxaon smiled innocently. "I was worried that you would avoid me after seeing me go through the Harrowing." Duncan wanted to slap his forehead, the girl was oblivious. He almost questioned Irving's judgment before remembering their conversation in the hall. The girl paid rapt attention and carefully picked her questions to glean whatever information she could, even on subjects that he had purposely avoided. She was certainly living up to the reputation of an 'odd child' as Irving had deemed her.**

**Cullen's face blanched and he brought his hands up in defensive and dismissing gestures. "I would never do that!" He said forcefully before calming himself at Ilxaon's startled look. "I mean- that is- I enjoy speaking with you." he finished lamely.**

"**Then we should speak again soon." Ilxaon wasn't willing to turn down the opportunity at having another comrade in the tower.**

**A pleased grin settled on Cullen's face. "That would be great. Now I have to return to my duties. Good day to you both." With a nod of his head, and an upbeat step Duncan noticed, the Templar departed. Ilxaon smiled after him, then motioned for them to continue.**

**As he answered her questions Duncan could only give his condolences to the young Templar. 'Poor boy.' was his thought as they entered the guest room. "Thank you for escorting me here, Ilxaon. You probably don't have anymore time to listen to and old man's ranting." He bowed his head to her then turned, removed the weapon sheathes from his back, and sank into the chair near the fireplace in his room.**

"**I'm an apprentice, old man and listening to them go hand in hand." Ilxaon spoke quietly as she began to turn to leave, only stopping and becoming terribly embarrassed when Duncan laughed.**

"**Irving was surely correct about you speaking plainly." Duncan glanced back over his shoulder expecting her to be running out now, but their she stood, gently worrying her lower lip. "Or do you in fact have time to listen to an old man?" A quiet smile greeted him in answer. He motioned to the chair across from his own, "Then I shall be glad to oblige."**

**Duncan felt as though he had been through an interrogation as the small mage finally left him. He even missed the entry of Irving and jumped when he spoke. "It seems she fully occupied your day my friend." an all knowing smirk.**

"**Day?" Duncan grinned back, "We only spoke for a short time. Although I do agree that she possesses the mindset to become a Warden."**

"**Ah that she does." Duncan couldn't help but notice the sadness that lingered in Irving's voice. "With time she will also acquire the skills of battle she'll need." Silence settled over the two for a time.**

"**Does she use a spell to see." Duncan finally brought himself to ask the question he couldn't ask the magegirl himself.**

"**What?" Irving looked up surprised. "Oh no, she sees quite well in fact normally." At Duncan's shocked looked he continued. "We know not why her appearance is that way. The Matron of the orphanage she was found at affirmed that all marking she has were born with her. And before you ask, she wears no makeup."**

"**Hmm.." Duncan mulled over his thoughts. "So is it magic that made them?"**

"**That is as likely an explanation as any." Irving shrugged.**

**A smirk appeared on Duncan's face. "I do have to say her knowledge of social endeavors seemed lacking."**

"**So you saw Ser Cullen's failures at gaining her attention did you then?" An amused chuckle. "She is indeed quite naïve in those areas." The tinge of sadness returned to Irving's face. "An elf among mages, a mage among elves. Touched of frost, bathed in moonlight." Duncan remained quiet as he realized what the words had meant for the small girl. "Greagoir said those words soon after she was brought to the tower. A lonely existence indeed."**

"**She'll have a home among the Grey Wardens." Duncan stated firmly. "I'll make sure of it should she design to join."**

"**Thank you my friend." Irving sincerely hoped the Grey Wardens really could overlook all the same barriers that had caged Ilxaon for so long. "Now I believe its time for dinner."**

"**Dinner?!" Duncan looked up sharply in surprise as Irving chuckled. The day had truly left him behind.**

**Ilxaon returned to her room with her head buzzing with the new information Duncan had provided, he'd even offered to speak with Irving about her joining the effort against the darkspawn. A terrifying idea but at the same time, she was unlike that one apprentice that always was seen in the chantry; magic was a gift, not a curse. The tower itself would be besieged by darkspawn if they weren't stopped. Being the only home she'd really known, however constraining it may have been, it was still a home. She would protect it with the knowledge it had given her.**

**Her mirth did not cease as she lay down to rest, having spent nearly the entire day with Duncan had been well worth it. **

"**You look like the cat that ate the canary." Jowan spoke, startling her from her inner musings. "What happened to make you so happy?"**

**Something inside her didn't want Jowan knowing about the Grey Warden, as if somehow it was her secret to keep. Instead she quickly pulled the box Irving had given her, and revealed her mage robe. "Becoming a mage of course!"**

**A quirked eyebrow and a snicker was her response. "Ah, the simple minded are happiest with the simplest things."**

"**Complexities always start simply, its only because people believe there is more that is grows." Ilxaon smirked back.**

"**Har har har." Jowan thought back on all the times Ilxaon's own simple/complexity had startled teachers and apprentices alike. He dismissed the matter quickly and focused on his goal. "I need to speak with you in private Ilxaon, I need your help!"**

**What was I doing! I couldn't really be doing this could I!? Her pouch contained the fire rod that Lily and Jowan needed. Escaping the circle? Destroying his phylactery and both of them breaking all the vows they had made? And I was helping them! I've gone mad, completely mad.**

**She smacked herself on face only to be rewarded with finding even more spider web. She only shuttered as she walked the hall. As she was about to pass Irving's study she noticed he was still inside it. Gently worrying her lower lip indecision wracked through her.**

**I know this is wrong in so many ways. But they're in love. Vows and promises aren't meant to be taken lightly. I myself am breaking the trust of the Circle and.. And.. I turned and pushed open the ajar door of Irving's study.**

"**Ah good evening child," the easy smile of his spread across his face. "Duncan tells me that you wished to.." his voice grew quieter as he took in her appearance and countenance. All of her telltale signs of inner turmoil were in full swing, worrying her lower lip, right hand twisting the ends of that old rope belt, eyes looking downward and to her left. Something was very amiss indeed. "I see you helped Leorah with her minor problem." As he removed a lace of web from her hair.**

**Ilxaon looked up sharply at him, "You knew about them?"**

**Irving smiled again, "I'm not the First Enchanter for nothing, I simply wanted to know how Leorah would handle her first 'crisis' as an Enchanter herself." Irving watched as Ilxaon's fingers slowly searched her own hair for more errant webs, but without any purpose, several webs were simply moved. It was silent for a time, just before he was about to ask about what was bothering her, she spoke.**

"**Are you still my mentor even though I passed my Harrowing?" Her voice was not its usual tone.**

**The question and its potential answered intrigued Irving. "As long as I am First Enchanter, I will always offer my advice to you and all those within this tower."**

**Ilxaon's right hand returned to twisting her rope belt. "I think.." slow breath, "I think.." Irving was alarmed as tears began to form in her eyes. "I think I need your help."**

**Worry creased Irving's brow. "I will do my best child." With barely controlled tears Ilxaon revealed the plan of Jowan and Lily and her own involvement in it. Irving had heard rumors and whispers about the couple but had tried his best to quell them and allow the pair to come to their senses. Involving Ilxaon had been the last straw on his forgiveness though. "You did the right thing Ilxaon."**

"**Then why do I feel so awful." the tears finally spilled from her eyes, freezing as they fell from her face; an oddity that had also remained unexplained. "It hurts so much."**

**A pained smile was all Irving could offer, "At times the most painful path is the right path." Ilxaon only nodded as she quieted herself. Irving ruffled her hair, something he hadn't done in years, "I forget sometimes how young the rest of you are." Ilxaon's hiccupped laugh was his only answer. "But now this path much reach its end, I shall walk it with you. Jowan is one of my mages as well." Ilxaon nodded as she squared her shoulders, life was always about hard choices; she knew this wouldn't be the last.**

**It was eerie as Ilxaon, Lily, and Jowan opened the door leading back into the tower proper. It was killing her inside to know that the couple would face the consequences of their actions on the other side of that door. Although there was a very strong feeling that nothing was going to go according to plan.**

"**That is far enough!" Ilxaon immediately recognized Greagoir's voice as it echoed through the hall. Surrounded, outnumbered by Templar trained to disable magic, Jowan quickly showed his true colors as Lily's fate was determined.**

**The Color of Blood.**

**Lily quickly thrust Jowan away, denying her love for him with his corruption of blood magic. Ilxaon had been thrown back with all the others, although no pain seemed to accompany the force. Jowan turned to flee, but his foot caught on something; or rather was caught by someone. He turned his face down ready to unleash his pain upon the Templar that dared try to stop him. His rage crumbled when he saw it was Ilxaon, freezing tears lined her face and shattered on the cold stone floor.**

**Almost too quiet to hear she asked a question that would haunt Jowan, "Why did you betray our friendship?" In that moment Jowan realized that she had not been the traitor of the two of them. He had lied to her, hid blood magic from her, and had even asked her to help him escape from the Circle. Even if Lily and himself had escaped, Ilxaon would have suffered a traitor mage's death. Disgusted with himself he freed himself and ran into the night.**

**Greagoir was slow to stand, some of the other Templar did not rise. Ilxaon was forced to drag herself up against the wall to stand. "Such ghastly power the boy had!" Greagoir turned his fury towards Lily, but before he could speak she did.**

"**I know my choice were wrong Knight-Commander." The life seemed to drain from her, but a resolve encircled her. "I will accept any and all punishment you see fit." Greagoir motioned for a Templar to lead her away.**

**Greagoir turned to Irving next, "If you had let me handle this we would not have lost his phylactery and the mage himself!"**

"**We had no proof of his blood magics before to act on." Irving stood firm, "I wasn't going to allow any of this Tower's mages be taken without proper proof." Greagoir grimaced but internally agreed. While he was a Templar himself, he didn't wish to see them treated unfairly either; the world did that enough. "And YOU!" he rounded on the last of the 'conspirators'. Although when he saw her slumped against the wall, ice crystals flecked across her face and robes his rage evaporated. "Explain yourself!" He was no longer in a rage but he had to keep his image in front of his subordinates that were finally awakening, noting that they would all receive a hefty increase in their training.**

**Greagoir hadn't seen such turmoil in those frozen eyes in years. Ilxaon's voice was haggard as she spoke, "I followed First Enchanter Irving's instructions." Her answer lacked any of the normal life that accompanied her voice. "I had no.. no idea.." she tilted her head down, allowing her hair to hide her face. "of Jowan's blood magic."**

**Before Greagoir had a chance to speak Irving confirmed that he had indeed instructed Ilxaon to assist. As they bantered back and forth about a punishment Duncan appeared. "The Grey Warden's will take her." Greagoir's eyes widened in shock. "Her determination to walk the right path even in the face of such personal pain and loss has shown me that she will make a fine addition to our order."**

"**Ilxaon barely a mage of a day! Her hom.. Place is here in the Tower! She is not ready to face the darkspawn!" Ilxaon heart lifted slightly, she had long ago learned to decode Greagoir's statements about her.**

**A quiet, sad smile came upon Irving's visage. "While I do agree she is very young and inexperienced, you know as well as I that Ilxaon will learn to adapt quickly to the world beyond that door." Smaller arguments continued to come up but were dismissed by either Duncan or Irving. Irving finally gripped Greagoir's shoulder, "It's time we let go." he whispered quietly. Finally Greagoir's shoulders slumped in defeat. "When will you leave Duncan?"**

"**I feel it best to leave as soon as possible." Duncan responded quietly. "We head to Ostagar to join the King's Army and the Wardens there. Dawn approaches so we can delay no longer."**

**Irving turned to the now completely stunned Ilxaon while Greagoir ordered his Templar to sweep the basement and Jowan's remaining belongings, leaving just the four of them. "It seems you will be able to lend your aide after all child." Irving gently pulled Ilxaon into a parental hug. "Go gather your things, we'll be waiting here. Try not to wake anyone." Ilxaon returned the embrace before nodding and hurrying to her quarters.**

**Duncan observed as both Greagoir and Irving looked after her as parents watching a child would. "She'll be accepted by the Grey Wardens." he reiterated his earlier statement, but only received numb nods in return.**

"**She still wears that rope you gave her so long ago." Irving smiled wistfully.**

"**I figured it would have broken by now." Greagoir returned an equally wistful grin. "I heard her call you by that old pet name again." A dry chuckle was Irving's answer. Both stared after where Ilxaon had gone a few moments more. "Is this what a Father feels as they send their child to war I wonder." Duncan chose not to say anything, he had seen many give their children up. It was best not to disturb them while they let go inside. Greagoir's face blanched suddenly, "Wynne is not going to happy with us when she finds out."**

**Irving's face took on a look of horror. "And she's already at Ostagar, so I can't explain the situation first." Both men looked at each other briefly before their entire bodies sagged. Duncan could barely suppress the laugh that threatened to escape.**

**They all heard her returning steps. Duncan was surprised at the speed with which she readied herself. His confused face prompted a response from Greagoir. "Ilxaon has never been one to store many things, she prefers to use the enchanted backpacks that are so common now."**

"**She provided quite the help for improving them from the older ones." Irving nodded.**

**Duncan's eyes widened, "How did a young one such as she help with that marvel?"**

**A proud smile came up on Greagoir's face, "Ilxaon reworked the runes to waste less of the enchantment so more of the magic could work for storing more."**

**The shocked looked only increased on Duncan's face, "Creating the runes for the enchanted packs is one of the first things we teach here. Ilxaon simply didn't accept the normal and sought simplicity." Irving chuckled with much mirth, "I still have the letter from one of the original pack rune enchanters about how 'such simple runes will never hold!'"**

"**Her rune work has yet to give out on any pack." Greagoir beamed with pride and his own chuckle. They quieted themselves as Ilxaon appeared around the bend, sadness and loss replacing the jovial mood. "A Harrowing, a day interrogating a Grey Warden, covert mission for Irving, and now leaving to join the Grey Wardens." Greagoir couldn't quite smile, "Quite the day indeed." Ilxaon could only blush in embarrassment.**

"**The robes suit you child." Irving smiled. He noted Ilxaon had used the robe's hood to hold her long hair. Greagoir smiled truly when he saw the rope belt still cinched round her waist. Her blush only deepened at the praise. "Continue to watch and learn all you can. The books of the Tower have only provided the basics of the world. Fill out the world for yourself." Irving was suddenly enveloped in a tight embrace. "Remain strong child." He whispered as he returned the embrace. Ilxaon slowly released Irving and turned towards Greagoir.**

**He had opened the gate himself, Duncan stood just on the outside. "I've no tongue for inspirational speeches as you know." He spoke stiffly, but when he too was embraced by the small elf, he hugged her firmly. "Continue to make me proud Frozen Eyes." keeping his voice low to avoid being heard by the Grey Warden.**

"**Thank you for everything Flameweaver and Keeper." Ilxaon bowed deeply, they could here the small sounds of her frozen tears hitting the stones. "Farewell." with sadness she turned to walk with Duncan out the main gates of the Tower, into the shadows of the coming dawn. The two men watched as the figures disappeared into the darkness. Neither commenting on the others misty eyes. Both their minds only had one thought.**

'**Be safe.'**


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry this took awhile to update, my computer had issues and all my notes about how I wanted to write got deleted . sorry about the last chapter being bold, I don't know why it did that, I hope this one doesn't do it as well ^^a Enjoy!

Ilxaon stared openly at the world before her as the doors echoed closed behind her. She had certainly been outside the tower walls before, but always with a firm reminder of a time limit and never off the island.

Now she was free.

'Somewhat free anyways.' Ilxaon thought with a grin as she looked over at Duncan as they moved towards the docks. Tiredness and exhaustion hung over her body but the thrill of being out was keeping them at bay for now. Wordlessly the pair boarded the small ferry and began the journey in honest.

Duncan watched the mageling idly as she lent over the edge and skimmed the water's surface with her fingers. He smiled as she froze the water now and again, seemingly just to see how the small icebergs would float. The ferryman was a jovial fellow, speaking amicably with Ilxaon as she questioned him about what it was like to be a ferryman. Duncan shook his head as the man fell into the same trap he had the day before, although he noted she was subdued more then when questioning him.

As they docked and departed Duncan noted that Ilxaon stood behind him slightly at the small town awakening for the day. Curiosity evidently didn't override her uncertainty of actually interacting with non-tower folk. They passed through the town quickly though, the Darkspawn Horde of Ostagar certainly wasn't coming to them, at least Duncan hoped it hadn't broken the King's line. They traveled quickly as Duncan always did, long strides eating up the road before them. Surprisingly the mageling was keeping pace with him, even able to hold small conversation. Not with the usually zeal he noticed, she mainly let him spin the tales he knew of the Grey Warden's but questions he expected her to ask remained unvoiced. It seemed he was being used as a distraction and time filler while Ilxaon dealt with what had happened at the tower. He couldn't blame her though, having your friend betray you so completely would be hard on anyone.

The day passed this way, they stopped briefly for a quick lunch, but continued quickly onward. Duncan looked up to the horizon, only a couple of daylight hours remained. Normally he'd have pressed on until the twilight fell but the softness for new recruits he was joked about for rose up. "We shall make camp for the night." He chuckled as Ilxaon finally let the exhaustion overtake her and fell to her knees. Duncan quickly made a decent fire while Ilxaon spread out her bedroll. When the fire was going Duncan turned to ask if she wished to try one of dishes he'd learned in The Free Marshes, he smiled softly at the site before him. Ilxaon had already fallen into sleeps embrace, half covered by her blanket. Duncan quietly covered her, "Sleep well, you've earned your rest this night."

Duncan settled himself as he finished the meal. The night watches would fall to him, but he was unworried. Traveling alone taught him well how to look for campsites that would be passed over. Although sleep hadn't been an easy thing of recent. The edges of nightmares were returning. Duncan put that thought to the back of his mind, he had a Blight to deal with before he could be Called.

The morning was only an hour or so away and Duncan had allowed himself to doze off. He awoke slowly as he always did, bringing his senses back to full awareness before allowing any to see he had awoken. He knew Ilxaon was no longer asleep, he could hear her gentle weeping.

"It is not shameful to weep for things lost to us." Duncan spoke quietly.

Ilxaon jump and tried to clear her eyes with her sleeves. "I didn't wake you I hope?"

"No, the morning is near." Motioning to the first embers of the sunrise. He could see her still trying to hold back the tears. "Allow yourself to feel, use it to temper yourself into someone even stronger."

Ilxaon glanced at him sharply, "You do not see me as weak for my tears?" All the stories from the Tower's library always held ill for those that cried.

"I indeed do not." Duncan's soft voice carried over the small space between them. "Its when you cease to feel that you are truly lost." Ilxaon nodded slowly as she began gathering her bedroll. Duncan looked on and thought that Irving's guidance was true. The rough edges of a child were being slowly but surely chiseled away. He sincerely hoped that this small elf would pass the Joining. Soon the small camp was repacked and they were marching onward once again. Silence, comfortable, remained between them for several hours until Ilxaon's curiosity won out.

"Where do you hail from Duncan?" With that the same zeal had returned to Ilxaon's voice. The conversation quickly spent the day, and before he knew it his stomach reminded him about a Warden's appetite.

"We shall take lunch here." Duncan motioned to a small spring. The spring looked to be on of the many that occurred during the early spring of Ferelden. Fresh, clean water was always welcome though. As they ate Duncan felt more then heard the approach of others. His eyes wandered over to the pair of men that appeared from down the hill. They seemed amicable enough from their strides. One was armed, but that was not uncommon among travelers. Wolf attacks were still fairly regular along the roads. The other made Duncan edgy, but being unable to place danger on an elderly man with a twisted and bend walking stick; Duncan pushed the feeling aside.

"Greetings fellow travelers!" The armed one waved as they approached. Duncan nodded while Ilxaon returned the wave. His eyes passed over Duncan and stayed on Ilxaon. "And what business, draws a lady of the such beauty unto the road." When Ilxaon looked up fully and the man took in her face he recoiled slightly, the tremor of hurt passed quickly over Ilxaon's features.

"We travel southward towards Ostagar." Duncan supplied, "Rumor has it the King himself has raised an army, we're going to join him." Vague truth generally was accepted more then the real.

"Ah yes." The elderly man spoke finally, his voice gravely and Duncan's instincts only increased. "The young King wishes to join his Father in glory." The man's face turned into a sneer. "He'll only find death with those foolish ambitions."

"Tut tut ol'man." The first spoke. "These folks only seek to make use of themselves." His eyes turned back to Ilxaon. Duncan recognized that shadow overtaking the man's face. "Although I feel that she would be more 'useful' in other.." His grinned turned lecherous. "expeditions." The man froze when Duncan's dagger came to rest against his throat.

"I would not speak so ill of my companions." The voice Duncan used chilled even Ilxaon. All were surprised at how quickly he had risen and closed the distance to the man. "Now be on your way, my blades have darker blood to seek."

The surprise slowly left the man's face and, to Duncan's own astonishment, it was replaced by a wicked grin. "Oh I don't think so." Duncan tried to move his blade but found his arms didn't heed his command. His eyes moved downward to widen in shock, he stood upon a lightly glowing rune. "See, this man ere." The man gestured to the old one, "He's what you call an apostate. Knows a bit of magic, but can't always be watching his back, same goes for me, cept I'm a thief." The thief stepped back from Duncan as he chuckled. "We get what we be aimin' for working together." The thief drew his own blade. "We don't be needin you though, jus her." Suddenly the air grew cold and the sound of shattering glass followed. Duncan jerked as he found himself free in the same moment and while the thief had turned to look towards the sound, Duncan struck. His blade sliced cleanly through the thief's throat. The man could only gurgle surprise as he sunk to the ground, his hand to throat desperately trying to keep his lifeblood in.

Duncan turned to his other opponent to only find pieces of broken ice before him. His eyes widened when he saw the old man's face amongst the fragments. Turning back to Ilxaon he found her staring at the life she had taken.

"Ilxaon." Duncan called out as he approached her. No response. He continued calling her name until he touched her shoulder, to which she jumped backward, tripping over herself and falling to the ground. She franticly switched her gaze between Duncan and the now thawing corpse. "Ilxaon." Duncan called again.

"I just... You were... they... I.." Ilxaon's gaze fell to her hands. "Wynne... she... she... told me that would... happen." Ilxaon continued to stare at her hands as Duncan quickly collected what supplies they had unpacked.

"Come, we need to move on." Duncan gently helped the shaken mage to stand. They walked in silence for several hours as Ilxaon continued to stare at her hands. Clenching and unclenching them. Duncan could only look on.

As night began to fall Ilxaon finally spoke. "Does it feel like that every time?" her voice was strained and sounded so very unsure. Duncan could only nod. "We killed creatures of the Fade at the tower, spiders when they infested the storeroom. But... none of them... none of them..."

"None of them were a man." Duncan supplied. He could only grimace about the lack of experience any mage truly had before they left the tower. No wonder so many sought freedom from the Circle and the ever present Templar. "Are you alright?"

The question caused Ilxaon to look up to Duncan sharply, he could only guess was was going on behind the frosted orbs he beheld. "I'll have to kill more won't I?" Again Duncan could only nod slowly. "Does it get any easier?"

"Only if you become a murderer." Duncan's solemn response came. "We succeed at any cost. We are Grey Warden's, you are joining us." Duncan always hated himself ever so slightly when the new recruits had to experience their first kill. He felt as though some innocence left the world whenever he witnessed it. But he again steeled himself. "At any cost." He repeated quietly. "We'll make camp here tonight. We still have a few days ahead of us before Ostagar. Temper yourself in that time. Irving and Greagoir have faith in your abilities as a mage and as a person." Ilxaon nodded solemnly as she stared towards the setting sun. Duncan silently cursed fate, how much more was this small elf to deal with in such a short time? His mind turned towards the Joining. At least then she would be one of the Grey Wardens.

Another night came and morning soon followed. Duncan awoke throughout the night to find Ilxaon still staring into the distance, at times he could hear the gentle sound of her unique tears falling. But Duncan took heart that she was no longer sobbing or weeping. She truly was tempering herself and growing just as Irving assured him.

The next day passed without incident, save for Ilxaon's robes becoming caught more and more in the brush as they began traveling the less used roads.

Ilxaon was forced to stop by a particularly stubborn root. "Will you please let go!" She jerked the fabric loose but lost her own balance in the process, ending up on the ground again. She glared at the now broken root, "Now let that be a lesson to you!" Brushing off the dust as she stood she grinned down at the plant, "And tell the rest of your friends to stop snagging my robes, they're new!" Duncan let a small grin grow upon his face. He couldn't know if she had truly dealt with what had happened to her, but she seemed focused enough to continue moving forward.

As they set up camp for the final night, Ilxaon was tripped yet again as she approached the fire. "I do not know how Wynne does it! But I can not!" With that she began to loose the holds on the skirt, causing Duncan to turn away quickly.

Duncan himself couldn't believe what was happening. Was she truly disrobing near him. He had heard rumors of the mages and their, unfettered relations, but he couldn't believe what the elf was doing. "Should you be doing that?" He asked in a controlled voice.

"Doing what? Oh, may I borrow your dagger?" Ilxaon's voice only held confusion.

"Do you need me to step away?" Duncan heard the flop of the cloth hitting the ground and then his eyes widened as her footsteps drew closer. He gulped when they stopped just behind him.

"Why would I want that? The night air is chilly, I do not imagine that metal armor provides much warmth, I wouldn't want you to forgo the fire." Her voice was still even. "May I borrow your dagger?" voice became questioning as if she might have offended him.

Finally Duncan breathed a deep breath, then turned round to hand her his dagger; for his eyes to meet. "Pants." he stated dumbly. Indeed Ilxaon wore pants and boots that came up to her mid-thigh, held there by a twin straps attached to the waistband. 'Looks like I'm owed a few wagers about robe-wearers and whats underneath.'

Ilxaon looked down at herself then back to Duncan, clearly confused. "Um... yes. Those are pants." Duncan could only stay silent as he handed her his blade. She returned to her seat before measuring and swiftly cutting the skirt in half. Ilxaon felt Duncan's questioning gaze. "The runes within the skirt are above the cut, guess the rune-workers didn't want them getting muddy. I really don't know how Wynne manages to get by with it full length." She quickly withdrew a needle from her sleeve as her other hand dipped into the runed bag at her side, pulling out a small ball of yarn. Humming quietly as she hemmed the now knee-length skirt.

Duncan was again surprised at this mageling. She was sensible enough to wear a traveler's set of boots. 'And pants.' he reminded himself, plus she could mend her own clothes. It was always a shock to the new Warden's when they oftentimes had to learn to sew. "Do all mages possess these basic skill sets?" He didn't even realize he had voiced the question until Ilxaon looked up in surprise.

"Hmm." Worrying her lower lip as she thought. "I can not say with certainty. Most rely on the Tranquil I believe. But I always had a bit more time then others." Her attention returned to the sewing, while Duncan's mind flashed back to Irving's sorrow about her upbringing. "I don't mind though, feeling something real being made and knowing I did it myself was always enjoyable."

Duncan began preparing the meal as the twilight fell. Ilxaon slowly removed her boots and stretched her feet. Duncan winced in sympathy when he saw the bloodstains on her socks. Ilxaon followed his gaze and looked up quickly with a grin. "'Best to let what you can heal normally, so your body can deal with larger injury easier.' A quote from Greagoir when discussing using healing magics." She herself winced as she removed the socks and began rubbing in an ointment. "Although I believe my feet wish I hadn't listened to him." Duncan chuckled in reply as he handed her the meager dinner. They ate in comfortable silence as Ilxaon worked on her new dress. "You don't happen to have any spare leather do you?" The question coming from nowhere.

"I believe I do." Duncan rummaged through his own pack and withdrew the remnants of a leather chest piece. "I've used this to repair some of my own strappings, you're free to use what you will."

Ilxaon nodded in thanks as she took the leather. "I'll take first watch Duncan, I know you haven't been splitting them evenly with me because of..." a pause, "my circumstances. I thank you for that." She looked directly at him, Duncan still felt odd when those blue orbs focused on him, "But I need to temper myself." the last part said with a soft smile.

"As you wish." Duncan lay down to try to enjoy the gifted sleep. Slowly he drifted off to the sounds of cutting and gentle humming. Duncan awoke to complete darkness. No nightmares had come to him this night. The dying remains of the campfire barely illuminating Ilxaon's figure. He chuckled as she was obviously fighting to stay awake herself, head nodding up and down, eyes blinking rapidly. "Sleep child." Ilxaon looked up to him in sleepy gratefulness before letting herself fall back onto her bedroll.

The morning soon came and they were on their way once again. Duncan noted Ilxaon's new attire with satisfaction. She had done away with the billowing sleeves and tightened them down into arm length gloves. The leather he had provided now lined her palms and fingers, the remnants of the sleeves and skirt providing the 'glove' the leather attached too. He could see the burned lines of runes along the straps attached to the back of her new gloves, but he knew not their meaning.

Ostagar came into view and any thoughts he had of asking about the runes fell away as Ilxaon's eyes widened in astonishment of the grand fortress. Even in its heavily decayed state it was still magnificent. "It was build by the dwarfs for the Tevinter Imperium to withstand the assaults of the barbarians from the Korcari Wilds. It will serve us well in meeting the Darkspawn horde." Ilxaon only nodded as they continued to walk down the ancient pathway, her eyes everywhere in amazement. "The Grey Wardens are few in Ferelden, but we are all gathered here. Now to begin the.."

Duncan was interrupted by a loud greeting. King Cailan himself had come to meet the Leader of the Grey Warden's. Ilxaon's attention focused fully on this king while she kept her eyes continue to wander over the ruins. He was very young indeed, and even to her he seemed almost battle hungry. Or perhaps just trying to fill his Father's very large shoes. "Oh!" Cailan turned his attention directly on her. "You must be the new recruit. Its a pleasure to meet you." The King grinned easily enough, but even he seemed somewhat taken aback when her frosted gaze met his.

"It is my pleasure to serve the King of Ferelden." Ilxaon curtsied. Obviously somewhat uncomfortable with Duncan's choice but trusting the older man's judgment the King excused himself saying Loghain would soon send a search party if he didn't return to the strategy meetings. After the King and his guards had made their way well out of earshot Ilxaon spoke quietly, "He seems a good King, but his hunger for the glory of old seems strange. The books I've read at the tower do indeed tell of heroism and valor, but always at the cost of many lives."

Duncan looked sharply at his companion. Not for the first time seeing a small change in the elf's personality, nothing to worry about, but still surprising when it occurred. "He feels the Grey Warden's legacy is enough to win the battle. Both Loghain and I have tried to help him understand the cost of glory, he will come into the knowledge when it is needed." Duncan shook himself before continuing, "I have pressing matters with the King and the other Wardens. Feel free to look around the camp, but I must ask you not leave it. An hour before noon, find another Warden named Alistair and find me at the entrance to the Warden's camp. There is a task to complete before your Joining." With that he bade her farewell and disappeared into the throng of the very active camp.

Being surrounded by so many people on all sides, with most ignoring her out of business other then personal was strange indeed. Ilxaon grinned as she carefully made her way through the crowds, it was terrifying being alone but also so very exciting. She felt the gentle tug of magic as she crossed the bridge. After enjoying the spectacular view for a few moments she made her way to the Templar guarded mage part of the camp. The mages were currently working directly in the fade so she respectfully kept her distance.

"Ilxaon?!" A surprised but very familiar voice called out. Ilxaon spun, found the speaker then dashed towards her. "It really is you dear!" Wynne breathed as Ilxaon enveloped the elder woman in a hug. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm going to be a Grey Warden! Duncan recruited me!" Ilxaon replied happily, failing to notice the pang of sadness that rippled through Wynne's features. "And I'm a full mage now!" Ilxaon released the spirit healer to spin to show off her robes, or what was left of them.

Wynne chuckled softly, "Couldn't stand your robes getting snagged could you?"

Ilxaon sighed in exasperation, "Every root, rock, and thorn just wanted to grab at them!" She held up the remaining skirt, "Do you like what I did?" Wynne could easily hear the desire for approval in the young mage's voice. Wynne made a show of carefully inspecting the altered robes as she did when observing an apprentices spell.

"A wonderful job dear." Wynne smiled as Ilxaon's own smile became beaming. "Now tell me how you came to be recruited for the Wardens, I'm doubtful Greagoir or Irving would let you go so easily." The sudden sadness that overtook Ilxaon immediately had Wynne concerned. Ilxaon slowly related her story of Jowan's betrayal and Duncan's subsequent intervention. Wynne gently hugged the smaller woman as she finished her tale. Wynne was astonished that Ilxaon had made it through revealing it all without tears, but Ilxaon was still shaking in her arms. "My dear, I am sorry." was all the spirit healer could offer the mageling. "But I know Duncan, if he believes you worthy of joining the Wardens, then I have no doubts of it myself." Ilxaon nodded as Wynne released her, blinking back tears while restoring her smile.

"I know, both Flameweaver and Keeper believe in me too." The smile became real as she recalled the image of those men looking onward as she departed the tower. "I'll do my best to live up to that belief."

Wynne gently returned the ever straying braid back behind Ilxaon's pointed ear. "You always have dear." An unspoken moment of comfort passed between the pair before Wynne spoke again. "Now off with you, I'm sure you're excited to explore the rest of the camp." Ilxaon hugged the older mage one more time before heading off. Wynne watched her go with a smile, but inwardly she was not happy with Greagoir or Irving.

Not at all.

Back in the Tower, the two aforementioned men suddenly felt a chill run up and settle in their spines. The same thought crossed both their minds.

'Wynne found out.'

Ilxaon continued exploring the camp as the morning waned. She had promised the hound master to look for particular flower if she went into the Wilds. Learned the story behind the very fearsome Ash Warriors, who were not made of ash, and had convinced a guard to give up his food so that a prisoner could have a last meal before being hanged. She returned the key he had stolen to the Tranquil overseeing the Circle's supplies (being careful not to actually touch the key). Glancing up she realized her time for exploration was over.

Asking the Tranquil held no answer, neither the camps Quartermaster (although she did find on of her own rune backpacks and bought it) nor the odd man named Daveth that had been rather insistent about watching her back. Finding a single man in an army camp was becoming quite the task indeed.

She stopped a quickly moving elf carrying a satchel of missives. "Forgive me, but have you heard of a man named Alistair?" Ilxaon inquired quickly as to not hold up the hurried man.

"What? Oh yes," The elf looked around quickly, "I believe the Reverent Mother asked him to deliver a message to Uldred at the Temple you see just over there, now I really must be on my way." With that the elf was gone before she could even give her thanks, she called them after him anyways.

As Ilxaon approached the temple she heard the familiar shouting of Senior Enchanter Uldred. Ilxaon had never liked the man, he was always overly cold and even hostile to others. It was a funny rumor amongst the apprentices that his anger stemmed from his inability to grow hair even though First Enchanter Irving had a full head and beard to boot.

"I will not be harassed in this manner!" Uldred's voice became clear as Ilxaon came round the last column blocking her view of the two men. The target of his frustrations had his back to her, but he was tall, with short blond hair; and seemed to be teasing Uldred without actually doing so.

Ilxaon liked whomever this man was already.

)End Chapter(

Hope you enjoyed it ^^!


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